


Jeeves and the Silversmith

by Johnlockedness



Category: Jeeves & Wooster
Genre: Jeeves and Wooster - Freeform, Jooster, M/M, jeevesandwoosterexchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 06:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10938792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlockedness/pseuds/Johnlockedness
Summary: Prompt - Jeeves formally introduces Bertie to his uncle (the butler Silversmith) and Bertie is anxious about how Silversmith will react.





	Jeeves and the Silversmith

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clearinghouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearinghouse/gifts).



> Written for Clearinghouse95 in the Jeeves and Wooster exchange on tumblr. 
> 
> Although the prompt stated formally, I wanted to explore Silversmith a little more in dept so I tweaked it to a more personal introduction :)

It is always nerve-racking to be properly introduced to a family member of one’s loved one. Especially when one’s loved one is by law not permitted to be. So to be formally introduced to someone who, in theory, would be able to blow our cover if the fancy struck, panicked the Wooster heart. However, Jeeves ensured me that the chap was indeed one of us, so to speak, and could therefore be trusted. Nevertheless, Bertram was nervous. Would I make a good impression? I am known to muck up the simplest of tasks and turn the serenest of situations to utter catastrophe, albeit not always by just my hand, after all. 

Still with me? Good, let me marshal the facts. 

If I recall correctly, and please correct me if I am mistaken, it was during my fourth visit to Deverill Hall, a place Bertram rather avoids due to connections with my aunt Agatha, that Jeeves insisted I would meet his uncle, and the butler of the Tudor manor, Charles Silversmith. 

You have to understand that I am not a particular welcome guest at the Deverill abode. You may indeed recall an episode involving Gertrude Winkworth, Catsmeat Potter-Pirbright and Gussie Fink-Nottle. I will not discuss the particulars here but it resulted in leaving Dame Daphne Winkworth, Deverill’s harridan, and the old dragon aunt A. in outrage and me and Jeeves being packed off to London in disgrace. A lucky escape if you ask me. 

That brings us to the not so insignificant fact why Jeeves wanted me to meet his uncle in the first place. I had indeed met the fellow, as in we had exchanged a word or two upon arrival and departure. But I had not been properly introduced. You see, Jeeves and I had entered into an understanding a few months ago. Meaning that the tender pash we felt towards each other was indeed mutual. Thus it was that B.W.W. was masquerading as one of nature’s bachelors when the truth was neither natural nor bachelor applied to the young master according to polite society. This agreement, however, suited us just fine thank you very much. 

It was thus that we travelled in the two seater to South Hampshire, as word had reached us about the wedding between Catsmeat and Gertude. The actual celebration was planned to take place in early June, meaning we were staying at Deverill Hall for at least a fortnight. A prospect I did not immensely looked forward to. It would mean that Jeeves would only be able to visit me late at night when the rest of the house was fast asleep. Moreover, the levels of intimacy would have to be brought to a minimum in order to reduce the risk of being found out. No calling of first names, standing too close to one another or staring just a little too long. It was a tension we both felt and the atmosphere was pipped. 

Jeeves, being Jeeves, of course felt the need to therefore introduce me to his uncle. As I understood from him the old man was one of nature’s bachelors himself. Since he didn’t carry the Jeeves’s family name I gathered he married into the family on his father’s side or was a relation of his mother, although I did not recall her maiden name. Was it Silversmith? I did drop the question to Jeeves, but he merely smirked, by means of raising the corner of his mouth a roguish quarter of an inch, and told me to find out the particulars myself. I mean to say what?

We arrived around noon, having left London early in the morning, which suited me just fine as the tummy rumbled. Of course we were greeted by the man himself. I don’t know how butlers do it, they must have some inter-whatsit, inter-? Internal? Yes that is the one, internal device for estimating when guests are bound to arrive. That or Jeeves sent of a telegram this morning. I reckon it was the second. 

As we got out of the Aston he greeted us, impeccable as always. 

“Mr. Wooster, sir. Welcome to Deverill Hall. I trust you had a pleasant journey?” he said as he and the accompanying footman made to remove our bags from the boot. “Mr. Jeeves, I trust you are well?” he said before addressing me once more. “Your customary room has been made ready for you sir. Mr. Jeeves will show you upstairs.” He said as the footman made his way inside the house with our luggage. “Lunch will be served in half an hour, I gather you want to get rinsed and dressed.”

“I say that is jolly decent.” I said and Silversmith gestured for us to follow him inside. Well, I know this sounds strange but I felt bally uncomfortable walking behind them as they spoke softly. They seemed to come to some sort of arrangement but it was too quiet for me to catch exactly what they said. Of course I couldn’t be introduced right then and there as it would not have been proper, but it did leave me a bit apprehensive. Luckily the moment didn’t last long as I was greeted by Catsmeat. It was good to see him again and I promised I would catch up with him later but I insisted on refreshing and dressing for lunch first. 

It was two days later when Jeeves brought me breakfast that I raised the subject that I still had not made proper acquaintance with Jeeves’s Silversmith uncle. 

“Reggie. I cannot help but notice we have been in the same Hall as your uncle resides in and yet I still haven’t made his acquaintance.” I said munching on my perfect piece of buttered toast. 

Jeeves coughed a polite but disapproving cough at the use of his given name and produced a note from the inside of his morning coat. “This was delivered to me by my uncle this morning, sir. As you will undoubtedly understand it will take some time to arrange a suitable time and place to commence with the introduction.” 

I accepted the note and opened it eagerly. I read it. Then I read it again. “I say Jeeves, it seems that your uncle wishes to meet in the churchyard of the village of Kings Deverill.”

“Indeed sir?” 

“Yes.”

“May I ask when my uncle wishes to meet us, sir?” 

“You may Jeeves.” I reread the not again, for good measure you understand. “Four o’clock this afternoon.”

“Post meridiem, sir.”

“Quite.” I put the note down and looked up at him. “Come here, Reginald. Kiss me, tell me what the weather is like and lay out my best suit for this afternoon. 

He obeyed with that glimmer in his eyes which he knows I bally well cannot resist. 

“Very good, sir.”

As we made our way into the frankly abandoned village later that day, we spotted the lone figure of Mr. Silversmith near the abbey. “Jeeves, you reckon this is safe? I mean to say, out in the open and all that. I know walls have ears, but no walls have even more so.” I admit to say that the Wooster B had started to get nervous again, concerned for our safety and aiming to make a good impression. 

“I have been given to understand that there is a popular festival presently in the neighbouring village, sir. Leaving Kings Deverill liberated from most of its occupants. We will be quite safe sir, as long as we keep our voices down.” Jeeves reassured me. '

“Right ho, you know best old thing.” I said as we walked up to aforementioned l.f. 

Mr. Silversmith looked up as we approached and I could not help but notice that he looked rather solemn. “Mr. Wooster, sir. Mr. Jeeves.” He extended his hand and I took it nervously, my palm rather sweaty and I was hoping he wouldn’t notice. 

“Mr. Silversmith.” I said genuinely. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Jeeves has told me great deal about you. Although I often tell him to spare it for the long winter nights. That is. Ah. “ I started to babble but it did not seem to bother him. Rather he looked faintly amused. 

“Please call me Charles, Mr. Wooster. Thank you for accompanying me.” He said before he shook Jeeves’ hand. “Reginald.”

“Charles.” Jeeves returned. 

I observed the encounter with interest before I pipped in; “Call me Bertram, for the time being anyway. Mr. Wooster seems rather formal and all that.”

“Very good si- Bertram.” He said and it reminded me Jeeves and his relentless feudal spirit. 

“If you would be so kind to follow me.” I right ho-ed and chatted with the man for quite some time. He was a kind fellow and apparently enjoyed many subjects I had an interest in. The latest cricket match results, music and even a spot of theatre. Though he admitted that he had not seen any performances in a long time due to him not living close to London. 

Jeeves talked intermitted from time to time but he seemed to be happy to take the observational role. I admit I found it rather pleasing to be treated as an equal by both men. I mean to say, one or two sir’s did enter the conversation but I couldn’t very well tell them off now could I.

When we had walked around the cemetery for approximately 10 minutes we suddenly stopped at what I gathered was a tombstone. It was in fact a tombstone, being in a cemetery and all that. What struck me most, however, was the name that was written on said t. 

_Here lies Cyril Jeeves  
May He Rest In God’s Care_

I was flabbergasted. Nonplussed and gobsmacked to name but several. It took a while for the brain to catch up after this, well frankly, shock to the system. I wasn’t sure how to proceed either. What did this mean, why did Charles Silversmith, Jeeves’ uncle show us, no show me, this particular tombstone? I daresay I had questions, but I also gathered this was a delicate matter. Luckily they were dealing with one of the Great Woosters. 

“I say old thing.” I addressed nobody in particular. “That is a Jeeves.” So much for stating the obvious. 

“Indeed sir.” Jeeves answered gravely. When it became apparent that Silversmith did not respond to my statement he proceeded. “This is the grave of my late uncle Cyril Jeeves, sir. He served as a senior footman at Deverill Hall under Mr. Silversmith. There he resided until his sudden departure almost five years ago.”

Jeeves hesitated and Mr. Silversmith nodded, initiating him to continue. “My late uncle and Charles, were lovers, sir.”

I was agog. I could have caught flies with my mouth hanging open. I snapped it shut the instant I realised I was staring at Silversmith. 

“ Egad, Jeeves! You mean to say, that when you mentioned he is one of us, he really is one of us? That is to say, well- I am dashed.” Entirely inappropriate, but there you have it. 

“Indeed, sir.” Silversmith said. “Cyril and I developed an amorous inclination towards one another when he was about Reginald’s age. Unfortunately, Cyril was married and the pain it caused him to deceive his wife withheld us from engaging into an agreement. When his wife succumbed to pneumonia merely four years later he was grief stricken. He was left with two small motherless children and naturally I was there to comfort him. Perhaps in more ways than we could have possibly imagined.”

“I nearly lost him when we were almost found out. I cannot imagine what they would have done to us. To him. I don’t think I would have been able to live with the guilt if they had ever harmed him.”

I am not ashamed to admit that at this point, tears had started to roll down the Wooster dial. Jeeves laid a gentle hand on my shoulder and stood a little closer to my side.  
“I shall be better directly Jeeves.” I sniffled and a ghost of a smile fluttered across his lips. “What happened next?” I asked intrigued but dreading to hear it. 

“We decided to separate after the incident. At least for some years. It was a difficult period. We were working in the same household, neither of us particularly willing to abandon our employers. However, after a considerable time it became apparent that our feelings for each other ran too deep to ignore. We carried on together, discretely and in secret. Nobody ever suspected us. Not until we met Reginald here.” Although he obviously still mourning the loss of companion and lover, there was amusement in Silversmith’s voice. 

Jeeves coughed and rubbed his hand along my back before giving my arm a gentle and comforting squeeze. “When I visited Deverill Hall for the first time as a young valet my observational skills were already in remarkable good shape. One glance at my uncle and Mr. Silversmith told me more than words.”

“You frightened us Reginald. We thought we would once again be on the brink of exposure.”

“Indeed.” Jeeves nodded solemnly. “ I confronted the pair and merely emphasised the importance of secrecy between men like us. It was not my place nor business to interfere, but I reasoned a fair warning was in order. I would never betray family.”

This struck a bell. “Jeeves, but Silversmith, Charles, is not your uncle by blood bond, yet you refer to him as your uncle and family. And what about the children, your cousins?” I was a bit confused. “Jeeves I am confused.”

Silversmith and Jeeves grinned at that. “Indeed, sir. Charles is not, as you said, my uncle by blood tie. However, I consider him the partner of my late uncle Cyril, who was my late father’s brother. I consider him as much my uncle as I would the spouse of my father’s sister, sir.”

“Well.” I didn’t quite know what to say to that. 

Silversmith chuckled. “I dearly wish Cyril could have met you Bertram. You are a fine young gentleman. He would have taken a like towards you. You lads make sure you take care of each other mind. Don’t do anything you might regret and be always vigilant.” He sighed a heavy sigh, as if he was coming to some decision. “I recognise the way you two look at each other the way Cyril used to look at me. I will never let him go. Not until my dying day.” As he touched the rough stone I felt Jeeves’ hand slip into mine to gentle tug me away. I followed reluctantly but wanting to give the old chap some privacy at the same time. 

Jeeves and I retreated back to churchyard and we wandered around the old abbey for a bit. I wanted so desperately to hold my man. To thank him for introducing me to his uncle. For treating me as an equal. But we couldn’t. Not here, not now. I gently brushed his shoulder with mine as we walked and whispered without looking at him “thank you Jeeves.” 

I did not see his reaction as I kept my eyes firmly on the alter looming before us, nor did he respond in speech. But he didn’t need to. I knew he was grateful, and that was all that mattered.


End file.
